


Case 31: The Adventure Of Mr. Smith And Mr. Jones (1882)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [41]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Assassins & Hitmen, Bandits & Outlaws, Bank Robbery, Cake, Caring, F/M, London, M/M, Organized Crime, Revenge, United States, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 01:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16461248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The Khrushnic family have need of Mr. Sherlock Holmes' services once more, as they are unsure whether two of their newest employees really are what they seem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In memory of the great Pete Duel who played Hannibal Heyes. An actor taken from us far too soon.

_[Narration by Doctor John Watson, M.D.]_

One of Holmes' first cases, my readers will remember, involved a service to the criminal Mr. Richard Khrushnic over his stolen painting (The Adventure Of The Thieving Son). Holmes had of course solved the matter and had thus spared the life of Mr. Khrushnic's son Gregor who had stood accused of the theft. His elder son Ivan was away on business at the time but on the latter's return did call in to offer his thanks as well, and it was he who called on us that cold day in early March.

“My father was particularly impressed that you believed in his hunch that something was not right about that matter”, our visitor said. He was a tall blond gentleman of about thirty years of age, looking every inch the respectable City businessman (although given how disreputable some of the latter were, the divide between them and him was arguably not that wide). “We have another rather curious matter that has arisen and would ask that you look into it.”

“I shall of course be delighted”, Holmes said. “What is it, pray?”

Our visitor took a deep breath.

“A few months ago two gentlemen came to our scepter'd isle from the United States”, he said. “Their names were Mr. Joshua Smith and Mr. Thaddeus Jones.”

I was sure that there had been nothing odd in that statement but Holmes narrowed his eyes at our guest for some reason. Mr. Khrushnic smiled.

“Yes, I was suspicious too”, he said. “A few swift inquiries revealed the fact that they were in fact two outlaws whose antics had made even the Wyoming Territory of the Wild West too hot for their continued presence, and had thus decided to strike out here as their ancestors came from Ireland. Their real names are Mr. Hannibal Heyes and Mr. Jebediah Curry, and they have been responsible for a string of at least ten bank robberies across the Territory.”

I still thought that a bit odd. The United States was after all a huge country, so why cross its wide spaces _and_ the even wider Atlantic Ocean to come here, even if they as so many had ancestors herer. Holmes obviously thought much the same from his next question.

“I am to assume that someone out there took exception to their activities?” he asked. Our visitor nodded.

“The strangest thing about them is that in all those robberies they never actually shot anyone”, he said. “They used to lead a larger gang however and in their last raid one of the men with them _did_ shoot a witness who sadly died. She, as it turned out, was the only daughter of a prominent local politician who swore vengeance on the two gentlemen and levied an obscene reward for their capture – _dead or alive!”_

“So they decided that the British Isles would be a safer option”, Holmes said. 

“They are cousins and have family in Ireland”, Mr. Khrushnic said. “I understand there is also some possibility of an inheritance there but I do not have details on that as of yet.”

“Am I to take it that the three recent bank robberies in eastern Middlesex are their work?” Holmes asked.

Our visitor frowned for some reason.

“Despite what the newspapers say, the criminal world is a relatively small one”, he said. “Yes, Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry did undertake the first two of those robberies. But the third one, although they did plan it, was actually undertaken by someone else before they could try their luck there – and as I am sure you have read, a bank clerk only narrowly escaped with his life when he was shot during it.”

Holmes nodded at this.

“I assume that Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry have denied any involvement in that affair”, he said. “The critical question. _Do you believe them?_ ”

“I do”, Mr. Khrushnic said firmly. “Like father with that painting I am working on a gut feeling, but they know the way things are well enough. Our family has got where it is today not just by brute force – although that has certainly helped – but because everyone knows that we have certain rules beyond which we will not move. That makes other criminals prepared to do business with us to a point because they know we can be trusted. Our American cousins must know that if they breached our rules they would be seeing the River Thames from a low and terminal angle, so I do not see why they would lie.”

“One can conceal a whole lot by not telling the whole truth rather than telling an open lie”, Holmes said sagely. “I shall make some inquiries into this matter sir, and if you leave us your card we will contact you as soon as we have anything concrete.”

Before Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry end up going for a dip in concrete shoes, I thought wryly. And someone really could stop with the knowing looks, damn him!

֍

It was a few days later and we were reading quietly in our rooms when a telegram came for Holmes. He read it, tipped the boy and said 'no reply' before returning to his chair.

“A communication from my brother Luke”, he said. “Like Bacchus he too works for the government, but unlike our unlovely brother he actually manages at least a spark of humanity in the process!”

I smiled at that.

“What does he have to say?” I asked.

“He confirms that some time before the third bank robbery, two more American gentlemen arrived to these shores”, Holmes said. “We shall be having visitors shortly.”

“The two newcomers?” I asked. He shook his head.

“And obviously it cannot be Sergeant Henriksen because Mrs. Hellingly is not baking today”, he smiled. “I asked Mr. Khrushnic to send Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry to see us.”

I felt uneasy, although I knew as with the Khrushnics themselves that Holmes had by the nature of his job to deal with dangerous people. He obviously caught my concern and smiled reassuringly at me.

“Remember we know that most unusually for their professions these two gentlemen eschew violence, especially by the gun”, he said. “Although given that they have come several thousand miles in order to escape someone, I do expect them to be armed.”

That made me even more nervous.

֍

The two robbers both looked as respectable as Mr. Ivan Khrushnic, Victorian gentlemen in cheap but serviceable suits. Both were in their late twenties; Mr. Heyes was wiry, dark-haired and had a round face with a worried look, while Mr. Curry was a shade taller, blond and more muscular, his face marred only by a somewhat unfortunate attempt at a moustache. 

“Gentlemen”, Holmes smiled. “Your employer Mr. Khrushnic has asked me to help you so let us start with a couple of names. Mr. John Stafford and Mr. Quentin Black.”

Both men visibly started at those names.

 _“He_ is here?” Mr. Heyes asked, looking around the room as if he expected one or both of those gentlemen to suddenly leap out from behind the screen. Holmes smiled at him.

“Now which of those names concerned you the most?” he asked. “I am to presume from your reaction that it was Mr. Stafford?”

Mr. Curry sighed.

“Kyle – one of our gang members – lost his mask when we were coming out of our last job in the States”, he said. “He was a way ahead of us and this woman saw him so he shot her, the idiot. Elizabeth was Mr. Stafford's only daughter and he swore that he would have our hides for it. They captured Kyle and Wheat and strung them up without so much as a trial but we got away.”

“And now he has come here”, Holmes said. “Who therefore is Mr. Black?”

“His father owns the ranch next to Stafford's”, Mr. Heyes said. “He and Elizabeth were engaged to be married, which would have united their properties. It's real personal with him too.”

Holmes thought for a moment.

“My next question is a little more difficult”, he said, “so I would remind you that I can only help you if you are honest with me. Did you plan the Northumberland Road bank robbery?”

“That was not us, sir”, Mr. Curry said fervently.

To my surprise Holmes wagged a finger at him.

“That will not do, gentlemen”, he said firmly. “Sophistry is bad enough in my brother Bacchus' political world, and I really cannot be having it here as well. I did not ask if you had actually _carried out_ the robbery, merely if you had _planned_ to do it.”

The two visitors looked at each other then Mr. Heyes nodded.

“It was going to be us, sir”, he said. “But someone else got there first.”

“Were you working alone, or was this to have been with someone else?” Holmes asked.

Again a hesitation but he had broken their resistance. Mr. Heyes answered.

“We had Fireworks Fred – Mr. Peters, sir – in because of the explosives”, he said. “Yours work different from ours in the States, and in our last job they nearly caught us out when they went off early.”

Holmes smiled at that for some reason.

“It was not that funny!” Mr. Heyes protested.

“It was not”. Holmes agreed, “although one might classify it a peril of the job. It does however suggest to me just how we might relieve you of your pursuers.”

Mr. Curry coughed.

“Begging your pardon and all sir”, he said cautiously, “but why would you do that?”

Holmes smiled.

“I am not an officer of the law”, he said looking across at me as he spoke. “I apply _justice_ , and in our country a not insignificant little document called Magna Carta requires me to provide that justice to all, high or low. As my friend the doctor here once told me, the day that someone sets themselves up to decide who does or does not get justice then society is on a slippery slope indeed. Now this is what I need you to do....”

֍


	2. Chapter 2

Fortunately the next day was at it happened one of Miss Hellingly's baking days, although that in no way guaranteed the chance arrival of a certain cake-detecting London police sergeant.

“Hullo, Henriksen”, Holmes smiled, sending me a sharp look (I was not smirking _that_ much). “How fortunate that you _happened_ to come by today.”

How fortunate that the sun _happened_ to rise in the east today, I thought not at all cattily. And someone could really stop giving me a look like that!

To my surprise (read utter astonishment) the burly detective did not immediately reach for his slice of chocolate cake. I looked out of the window but no, the world was not ending just then. How odd.

“I am going to take it home for the missus”, our visitor said, blushing for some reason. “She, uh, had a fall.”

I wondered why he looked so embarrassed before Holmes' knowing smile told me just how Mrs. Henriksen had had her fall..... really, at his age! My friend smiled but obtained a small tin from somewhere and placed the slice inside it. Then he cut a second slice and handed it to our visitor.

“If you are prepared to give up cake for your wife, then you deserve it”, he said warmly.

The sergeant almost fell on the offering. I turned away to hide my smile.

֍

We had arranged with one 're-caked' Metropolitan Police officer to have several of his officers outside an address only a few doors away from his police station. The house in question looked ordinary enough but, or so Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry had told their 'friend' Mr. Peters, it was where a prominent merchant was storing a large cache of bonds prior to shipping them out of the country in two days' time. As our new friends had said that they planned to raid the place the following night, that only allowed tonight for any anticipatory action. Which I duly expected.

Holmes and I were ensconced inside the house and both of us were armed. Henriksen had four officers all watching from a safe distance; their role was to prevent any escape attempt. I fretted over two mad gun-wielding foreigners coming at us, all for a case involving two mad gun-wielding foreigners... yes, my life was strange at times. I felt even more nervous when Holmes told me to take a candle and go upstairs as I did not like leaving him, but we had to convey to anyone watching that the owner of the house had gone to bed.

It was about half an hour after I had rejoined my friend that we heard the window being forced. After only a short time it was eased open and a man eased his way in. Holmes waited until the second man was just starting to follow before he suddenly struck a match and held it up.

“Hullo Mr. Stafford”, he said.

His voice sounded eerily loud in the silence of the room. The first man stared at the gun I was pointing at him, while his companion baulked and all but fell out of the window. I heard a brief scuffle outside and knew that Henriksen and his men had him.

“Who are you?” the first man demanded angrily.

“I am the person come to arrest you” Holmes said. He gestured to a table in the corner of the room. “On there is a document stating that you attempted to break in and steal the bonds in the safe here. You will sign it, then you and your friend will be given a very generous twenty-four hours to leave the country. If you fail to do so, I shall have you killed.”

The cold way in which he said that made even me shudder.

“And if I don't sign?” Mr. Stafford asked, looking warily at me. I shook my head warningly and my finger tightened on the trigger.

“Then we shall kill you both here and leave your bodies to be found by the authorities”, Holmes said. “I dare say that the American ambassador will be far from pleased at his having several questions to answer about his countrymen's actions, although by that time you will be serving as fish food for the few creatures strong enough to survive in the Thames. You have one minute to make your choice, then I shall murder you.”

Despite my knowledge that he was (probably) not going to do that, he sounded so serious that I felt myself believing him. It certainly worked on Mr. Stafford who almost fell over his own feet as he raced to the table and signed the papers. We followed him outside to make sure he and his friend were on their way, then Holmes tipped the constables for their time (and handed Henriksen a tin which, I was sure, contained even more cake!), then we left.

֍

Two days later we received a second call from Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry. Both men looked infinitely happier.

“I can confirm that Mr. Stafford and Mr. Black have departed on board the _'Caroline'_ ”, Holmes said, “and that as the ship has no ports of call _en route_ they will soon be back where they belong.”

“We cannot thank you enough, sir”, Mr. Curry said warmly.

“And I have some more good news for you both”, Holmes smiled. “It concerns a small place called Baltimore.”

Both men frowned.

“Baltimore's a huge place on the eastern seaboard, sir”, Mr. Heyes said.

“Not _your_ Baltimore”, Holmes said. “Ours, the one in Ireland from which it was indirectly named. In particular the lands around it that belonged to a certain Mr. Seamus Curry. Your mutual grandfather.”

They both looked at him in surprise.

“That went to our Uncle Douglas, sir”, Mr. Heyes said. “And he had four sons of his own, we know.”

“That he did”, Holmes said. “There was however a single farm which was your father's, Mr. Curry, and which should by all rights have passed to you when he died. I am sorry to say that Mr. Douglas Curry used his friendship with the family lawyer to make sure that did not happen. Fortunately the error of his ways has been pointed out to him as has the potential of a long stay in prison if he did not co-operate, and the estate is now yours should you wish it.”

Mr. Curry looked shocked, as did his cousin.

“Ireland?” he said dubiously.

“I would go there for a time and see how things are”, Holmes advised. “You may find you take to life on the rugged Munster coast, or you may wish to sell the place on, take the money and start somewhere else. Although perhaps not the United States.”

“Definitely not the United States!” Mr. Curry said fervently.

֍

_Postscriptum: The sequence of events was conveyed through Holmes' various contacts to the American ambassador, along with a suggestion that maybe the American government might consider dissuading Mr. Stafford and Mr. Black from any further ventures across the wide oceans. Otherwise, as Holmes so rightly said, who knew what some horrible person might leak their confession to the newspapers as a result? Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry did indeed settle in Ireland; both married local women and rose to be respected members of their community._

֍


End file.
